Rescue Me
by Niilan
Summary: Ryou is a kid on the streets, who, through a series of events, falls into the unwilling care of Bakura, a man high up on country's crime heirarchy. Can they both rescue the other from darkness of secret pasts? AU
1. Rumors and Legends

Disclaimer: Nopety-nope. Still don't own Yu-gi-oh. Believe me, I'll let you know if I ever do.

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A hurried pitter-patter of feet echoed into the night as Ryou raced down the dark alley. A heavier series of footfalls bounced off the walls, deceiving his frantic mind, encouraging it to register more pursuers than reality urged on. He shot an anxious glance over his shoulder. Three shadows sped across the brick walls behind them. They were rapidly gaining ground.

Ryou returned his attention to the road before him, the prospect of capture spurring his tired legs onward with a new rush of adrenaline. Hope sparked in his deep brown eyes. He could see the opening of the long alley just ahead. If he could just-

A sharp pain sliced through his leg, and Ryou cried out, crashing onto the cold ground. He lifted his throbbing head and squinted at a line of crimson flowing from a gash in the calf.

"He's down!"

Ryou's eyes snapped wide, and he leapt to his feet, only to fall again with another yelp of pain. His leg burned in agony as his attempted to strain the torn muscles.

The pursuing footsteps slowed, approaching him now with brimming confidence. A large hand wrapped around his neck and shoved him roughing against the wall. Ryou squirmed, violently clawing at the man's hold on his throat. He paused to gasp when his assaulter lifted him into the air. The hand compressed, crushing his air tubes. Ryou's consequential wheezes earned him several snickers.

"Having problems breathing?" His captor mocked, and his hand tightened.

A second man plucked an object from the ground and waved it in front of Ryou's face. The steel blade glinted in the moonlight.

"My little knife did a pretty good job on your leg, didn't it?"

"Heh, I'm sure this one who earn a pretty penny."

Ryou tried to glare, but the pain coursing up calf knitted his eyebrows in a pathetically wounded expression.

"Yo, Keith, take a look at the whelp."

A third man emerged from the shadows, dark sunglasses, strange accessories for nighttime excursions, successfully hiding the triumph that surely glinted behind them. He smirked and sauntered up to Ryou, dangling hopelessly like a tattered rag doll.

His sneer melted, and the man cursed, spitting on the ground. "He's a freakin' albino, just like that freak of nature, Bakura."

Ryou couldn't make out the first man's response, his powers of comprehension suffocated from lack of oxygen. _Bakura…_

His captor's hold relaxed as he turned to Keith, and Ryou gulped in the air.

"Is it true, that his eyes are so red because of all the blood he's spilled of anyone who opposes him?"

The second man scowled. "I heard he has supernatural abilities, and that his hair goes wild when he's about to use them."

Keith snorted. "You sound like a pair of superstitious old hags. He's nothing more than a freak of nature that looks like a weak girl and is no more dangerous than one. He probably wears contacts and spends hours on his hair every morning. He'd run from a fight like a cowering puppy with is tail between its legs."

"Why, thank-you. I don't think I've ever been described with such endearing terms."

The three thugs spun toward the new voice. Ryou followed their stares to gaze blearily at a figure framed in the opening of the alley. The full moon illuminated the newcomer's bleached hair, a sharp contrast to his black trench coat, the edges of which seemed to meld with the shadows of the night.

"B-Bakura…!" The man suspending Ryou against the building whispered, taking a tentative step back.

The figure lifted his head, the thin line of a smirk drawing his lips together. Ryou was mesmerized by his glowing red eyes. They truly were crimson.

Keith scoffed, and walked forward haughtily. However, when he spoke, his voice carried tremors of restrained fear. "Bakura. We were just talkin' about ya."

"So I perceived." His smirk dissipated into his pale skin. "Put the kid down and run off like proper dogs."

Keith chuckled. "Really, Bakura, you're not in a position to be giving orders." He gestured to his companions. "It's three against one here, and the odds are not in your favor."

Bakura closed his eyes, shaking his head with a small smirk. "Seems the mutts need to be retrained."

The man holding Ryou whispered, "Maybe we should-"

"Shut up, Ryoku! You're not turning coward because of some girly-boy's threats are you?"

The next moment, the man who had initially attacked Ryou with his knife leapt forward. He swung his fist around, but Bakura ducked easily. The thug gripped his knife and spun back, but Bakura stepped to the side, grabbing his other fist as he passed. He twisted the arm against his attack's back and gripped the other, bending it backwards with an effective snap. The man howled and the knife clattered on the ground.

With a disgusted scoff, Bakura pushed his prey forward, and the man gasped, clutching his wrist protectively. "Just like a dog."

Ryoku shook violently, his eyes enlarged with terror.

"Get a hold of yourself, Ryoku! Yaiba is still fighting." He acknowledged the fallen man staggering to his feet.

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Need another lesson, do we?"

Ryoku, unable to contain his dread, released Ryou, who crumpled on the ground, and raced away. "I'm getting out of here!"

"Ryoku!"

"The coward is the wisest one of the bunch." Bakura sneered.

Yaiba gritted his teeth and lunged once more at Bakura. Ryou watched through glazed eyes as Yaiba swung his knife furiously, yet Bakura avoided every strike with such gracefulness. They seemed to move to a dance to which only Bakura knew all the steps.

Ryou heard a low growl and looked over to see Keith's hand move slowly to a metal object protruding from his back pocket. His eyes bugged when the thug withdrew a handgun. Both preoccupied in their primitive tussle, neither Bakura nor Yaiba noticed as Keith aimed at the former's head.

Summoning his remained strength, Ryou dove for the man's torso, screaming, "Look out!"

They whipped around just as Ryou collided with Keith, and the man fired. Bakura jumped to the side, avoiding the bullet, which passed by the second thug and through the window of a building. Keith cursed and slapped Ryou away. He crashed onto the pavement, trembling.

Ryou wasn't sure what happened next, pain clouding his senses. A minute later, Keith's weapon fell by his head, and the ground vibrated with retreating footfalls. He turned wearily to see the other two thugs racing away.

Bakura humphed, watching his victims flee down the alley. He turned, but uneven footsteps caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder to see Ryou stumbling towards him, blood still flowing down his leg, and fresh bruises discoloring his neck and cheek. He tripped, almost falling, but caught himself and gazed dazedly up at Bakura. He could not make out his savior's expression.

Suddenly, Ryou's mind was overcome with dizziness, and his legs gave way. His eyelids slid closed, and he fainted away, caught in strong arms just before his mind submitted to darkness.

--

Author's Note: Yay! I finally posted this! I'm excited for this AU fic. Neverending thanks to Bakura's Guardian Angel for helping me with the title!

Translator's Note: 'Bakimono' means 'monster'.

Now... could you spare a minute to review?


	2. Introductions

Disclaimer: Don't own a bit of it... except everything besides the Yu-gi-oh based characters. (Isn't AU great? ;p)

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His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the fan circling above him. Ryou moaned. His head and leg throbbed.

He blinked as he tried to remember the events of the previous night. They were fuzzy. He remembered running… and being caught. He'd thought he was a goner, but then that man had appeared. What had they said his name was, again…? Ryou couldn't remember. That last image that flashed across his mind was his body falling toward the ground before his rescuer had caught him.

Ryou slowly turned his head to the side. His eyes widened when he realized he was lying on a couch in what appeared to be the living room of a small apartment. A few chairs and a coffee table occupied the rest of the front room before it merged with the dining room and kitchen. Ryou shifted, pushing aside the thin blanket draped over him.

As he sat up, his injured leg brushed the cushions, and Ryou cringed. He reached down to the wound to see that it was wrapped tightly in white bandages. A dark red splotch stained the spot under which his gash presumably still bled. Had… had that man cleaned his cut?

It was then that he noticed there was a square pad of gauze taped to his cheek and two more on his neck. Ryou smiled wryly. He must look like he had just emerged from a hospital.

There was a click, like a key being inserted into a lock, and the knob to the front door turned. Ryou straightened as a tall, white-haired man walked in, a plastic bag swung over his shoulder. He locked the door behind him and ambled into the kitchen. Glancing toward the living room, the man raised an eyebrow at Ryou.

"Oh, you woke up."

He then directed his attention to his bag. Ryou watched in silence as the man put away various groceries in the cupboards and the refrigerator. He examined his savior a second time, taking in his unruly white hair and ghastly pale skin, both near exact imitations of his own appearance. The man's eyes surprised Ryou. They didn't appear nearly as crimson or sinister as they had the night before. Perhaps it had been an illusion of the moonlight.

"Arigatoh…" Ryou whispered.

The man looked up.

"For bandaging my leg… for saving me."

Shrugging, the young man closed the refrigerator. "You fainted on me. What was I supposed to do?"

Ryou wasn't sure how to respond. His rescuer plopped down in the chair across from him and bit into an apple in his hand. "You got a name, kid?"

Ryou nodded meekly. "Hai. Boku no namae wa Ryou desu."

"Ryou." He repeated. "Is there a last name with that?"

Ryou frowned. "Iie."

The man corked an eyebrow, but did not dig deeper.

"Do you have a name?"

The young man was silent for a minute. Ryou fidgeted under his steady gaze. Finally, he answered, "Bakura."

Ryou gave a start, his eyes snapping wide. Bakura? Yes, he remembered the men calling him that the previous night. In his weakened state, he hadn't realized its significance.

An amused smirk adorned Bakura's face. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Ryou shook his head. "I-Iie!" He looked down. "I've just… heard it before."

Bakura retained a skeptical expression, but again, didn't dig. He only tossed a second red apple to Ryou, which he fumbled with before grasping firmly between his hands. Ryou stared at the fruit. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten fresh fruit. He looked up at Bakura questioningly.

"You should probably eat that before it rots in your palms."

Ryou's eyes widened. "I… I can eat it?"

"Well, I guess you could wear it as a pendant… It wouldn't serve very well as a hat. The sun would boil it quicker than an egg in a pot."

Ryou giggled, then bit gratefully into the juicy fruit. Bakura stared blankly. He obviously had not intended to comment to be comical.

After nearly shaving his apple to the core, Ryou looked up. "How old are you, Bakura-sama?"

He had shed his shy demeanor. Bakura didn't seem like he could be anything those men had described him as.

"Nineteen." He replied flatly.

Ryou wrinkled his nose. "You're _old_."

Bakura smirked. "And I suppose _you_ are nothing more than a toddler?"

Ryou pouted. "Iie!" Then he corrected proudly. "_I'm_ eleven!"

Bakura nodded. "Why is it bad that I'm 'old', as you say?"

Ryou took another bite of his apple. "Adults are no fun."

Bakura chuckled, rising. "Is that so?"

The man walked over to a hall closet and opened the door partway, though not enough so that Ryou could see inside. A minute later, he closed the door and strode back into the living room, holding another blanket in one hand and a box in the other. Bakura placed them on the coffee table and sat down beside them. He then took Ryou's injured leg and propped it up on his knee.

"The bandage needs changing."

Ryou nodded, and Bakura unwound the strips of cloth. When his leg was again exposed, Ryou grimaced. A bleeding and pussing gash stretched across half his calf. Bakura reached into the box and extracted a small jar.

"You won't be able to walk on this for a few days, and after that it will be at least a week until you can move around much. The guy that attacked you was an idiot, but he had good aim. The muscle is cut deep."

Ryou nodded silently, staring at the ugly lesion. It would leave on heck of a scar.

"You can sleep on the couch."

Head snapping up, Ryou's eyes widened. "Y… You mean, I can stay…?"

Bakura looked up, then frowned. "Don't get me wrong, kid. As soon as you can move around properly, you're out, understand? I'll give you money and make sure you get on your way safely, but I can't afford to have a kid around."

Ryou's face fell. Looking down, he nodded mutely. Neither spoke as Bakura cleaned the wound. When he was finished, the man grabbed the jar, then began to spread an ointment on the wound. Ryou did his best not to react to the pain.

"What is that?"

"A special salve I made. It will help the blood to clot and decrease the risk of infection."

Ryou blinked in amazement. "Were you a doctor or something?"

Bakura smiled wryly, but didn't look up. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of injuries."

"Then you must be a genius."

He shifted his gaze to Ryou's with an amused smirk. "Why is that?"

"Only really smart people invent medicines."

Bakura returned the jar to the box and grabbed a wad of clean bandages. "You're an interesting kid. What'd you ever do to set those cowards after you?"

Ryou shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I was on their territory or something… _I_ didn't see a sign that said their name on it."

Bakura shook his head. "Petty squalls over the assumed ownership of land are for the weak-minded."

Ryou corked his head to the side, but didn't respond. He stared as Bakura deftly wrapped the cloths around his leg.

"Bakura-sama?"

"Don't call me that, kid."

"Why not?"

Bakura did not meet his gaze. "I'm not someone to respect."

He cut the cloth, secured it with medical tape, then stood to return the box to its place in the closet.

"I respect you…"

Bakura paused, back to the boy, and stared into space. "You're mistaken."

After closing the the closet doors, he walked back to the kitchen and took a glass from the cupboard. Pressing back a lever on the outside of the refrigerator, he filled it with water.

"What do you do?"

Bakura looked back at him. "Nani?"

"Where do you work? What kind of work do you do?"

"Just odd jobs."

"Like what?"

He looked straight into Ryou's brown eyes. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Ryou drew back. Something sparked in Bakura's eyes that almost seemed… menacing. He shook the feeling away and asked, "Why do you live alone?"

Bakura sighed. "You ask a lot of questions, kid. How 'bout I ask you one: where are you parents?"

Ryou looked down. He didn't want to answer. Yet, it only seemed fair…

"You see?" Bakura spoke up before he was forced to reply. "There are some things people don't want to talk about, so let's stop the interrogation."

Ryou nodded, not lifting his eyes from the ground. He had been stupid to think this man would let him stay. About two weeks… then he would be thrust back onto the streets, alone, prey for the desperate.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when a glass was set on his lap. He looked up at Bakura.

"Drink. You'll get a nasty headache if you don't keep yourself hydrated."

Ryou stared into the man's brown eyes. They mirrored his own… but Bakura's were so veiled. He was kind to Ryou, yet also rejecting him.

"Kid."

"Oh…" Ryou wrapped his fingers around the cup, then sipped at the cool liquid. "Arigatoh."

Bakura grabbed the blanket from the table and shook it out before draping it over the end of the couch. He took the glass from Ryou, after he had drained it, and set it on the table.

"You've lost a fair amount of blood. You need to rest."

Ryou lay down, again, stretching his tiny body across the couch. His large orbs never left Bakura as the man spread the two blankets across him. He smiled gratefully, then snuggled into the cushions.

Bakura took the empty glass and placed it on the counter, then walked toward the hall. His hand straying on the light switch, the man surveyed Ryou once more.

"Oyasumi nasai, Bakura-sama." Ryou said with the upmost politeness.

"Kid-"

"Hai, hai…" Ryou closed his eyes and smiled. "Oyasumi, Bakura-san."

There was a pause, then a somewhat reluctant "Oyasumi" before the room grew dark, and Ryou slipped into a restful sleep.

--

Author's Note: Yippee! This chapter was longer than the last. They will all probably be so from now on, but I'm sure none of you mind. Much Bakura-Ryou cuteness will be witnessed in the next chapter!

Translator's Note: 'Arigatoh' is 'thank-you', 'hai' means 'yes', boku no namae wa Ryou desu' means 'My name is Ryou ', 'iie' is 'no', 'nani' means 'what?', 'oyasumi nasai' means 'good night', and 'oyasumi' is just a less formal way of saying the same.

Care to review?


	3. Morning Mayhem

Disclaimer: Still don't own it! Won't while I write this fic, so this is my last disclaimer.

_**Important Note:**_ Several people have asked if this is yaoi. It **IS NOT!** This is very clear. There is _**ASOLUTELY NO YAOI IN THIS FIC**_. I do not support yaoi and therefore do not write it.

--

Ryou sat on the couch, absentmindedly kicking his dangling legs. Three days… He'd been in Bakura's care for three days, and just as the man had predicted, he could just barely limp around the coffee table. He stared at the white cloths bandaging his leg. A faint smile graced his lips.

Bakura was so talented. He was strong, smart, quick… everything Ryou wasn't. Ryou's smile melted. He was just a little weakling that always needed saving. Anything heroic he had every done was plain luck.

Ryou's hand strayed to the lip of his shirt. He reached inside, his fingers curling around a thin chain, and he withdrew a gold necklace. Eyes growing distant, he smoothed the gold pendant with his thumb. The thin heart glinted into the living room light. His small index finger traced the words etched into the metal. _Bakura Ryou_. Beneath it, a year he presumed to be that of his birth.

Tilting his head heavenward, Ryou closed his eyes. How many years were in between them? Nine? Ten years? He wasn't sure.

Again, Ryou felt himself sink into futile longing. He liked Bakura. That first night Bakura had immediately assumed the role of savior in Ryou's mind. However, the man did not want him. Then… why had he brought Ryou home in the first place? Just to toss him back out onto the streets?

Tears welled in Ryou eyes. He didn't want to be abandoned, again. He did not want to go back. If he were sent away, they would find him again. Holding himself tightly, Ryou drew his knees to his chest. He did not want go back.

Ryou looked toward the door. Why didn't Bakura like him? Was it because he was small… frail?

Wiping away his tears, Ryou narrowed his eyes. He wasn't completely useless. His face fell, again, as he looked down at his leg.

He shook his head. No, he could make Bakura like him. What to do, though?

Suddenly, a large smile broke his face. Hobbling toward the kitchen, Ryou decided on the perfect way to earn Bakura's approval.

* * *

Bakura trudged down the road toward his apartment. The slight breeze tugged at his long white hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail. He flipped the hood of his jacket over his head as he entered a more populated area. No sense attracting unwanted attention.

He absently fingered a wad of bills in his pocket and glared forward. He despised this. These 'odd jobs' as he had put it for the kid. It had taken him years to stifle his pride enough to stoop to the level of these low-lifes. It was necessary, though. His reputation earned him enough attention as it was.

As long as he wasn't discovered, it didn't matter what he became.

The cars whizzed down the crowded street. The flaps of his black trench coat swirled around his long legs as he strode past a deep alley. He paused, eyeing the high walls of the brick buildings. He stared for a long while, ignoring the pedestrians bypassing him with skeptical glances.

Shaking his head, he looked away and continued down the sidewalk. He should have never taken that kid in. It was not fair to the child. He became attached too easily. Bakura knew Ry- the boy could not stay.

A soft ring drew Bakura from his musings. He took a cellular device from his pocket and held it to his ear.

"Nani?"

"_Bakura-sempai!"_

"Please tell me you're calling from the phone I gave you."

"_Hai, hai. I'm not _stupid_."_

Bakura kept back a sarcastic comment. "Did you get it?"

"_Of course. Seems your man has been absent for several months now. The most recent thing I could find, and I did a _thorough_ search,"_ Bakura rolled his eyes, _"Was registration for a private plane from Moscow, Russia about a week and a half ago."_

"Did it list the destination?"

"_Yup. Get this. He landed in Tokyo."_

Bakura cursed under his breath. Perhaps his presence in Japan was a coincidence. Not likely.

"Alright. Keep me posted on anything new."

"_Hai, Bakura-sempai!"_

Bakura sighed. "I've told you not to call me that, Ma-"

"_Yeah, but I can't see your nasty glare, so it has no affect."_

Bakura could almost see the huge grin on the other teenager's face.

"You are insufferable."

_"That's why ya keep me around! That and my superior skills."_

Oh yes. His quite 'superior' skills.

"_Ja!"_

"Ja."

Bakura closed the phone with a shake of his head. The kid was impossible, but his skills for hacking were unrivalled for his age. Bakura would never find out how he learned it. Abundant spare time, perhaps?

Still... the information had disturbed him. He was in the same country as Bakura. Far too close for comfort. Bakura would have to change things... again. It also meant he'd have to get rid of the kid sooner.

Refusing to dwell on it, Bakura stopped in front of his apartment door. Things just couldn't get any worse.

_CRASH!_

Bakura stiffened. What the...?

He hurriedly took out his key, inserted it into the lock, and turned. He threw open the door and burst in... then froze.

Smoke billowed through the dining area and filled the living room.

Bakura absently pushed the door shut behind him as he numbly advanced into the apartment. He was surprised to smoke detector hadn't gone off. Bakura coughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

Another clatter drew his attention to the kitchen. Squinting, he peered over the counter at the white-haired child scrambling to pick up the pots that were scattered across the tile. Ryou shoved the pots and pans into the cupboard hastily, eyes flicking toward the stove anxiously.

Bakura nearly gagged when he looked at the stove. A liquidly, greenish substance sizzled in a small pan over high heat. The inside of the once silver skillet was scorched with black. On the counter beside the stove, two charcoal black slices of bread stuck out of the toaster.

"Bakura-sama!" A shrill voice squealed.

Bakura looked back down at the small boy. He had stood up, arms full of pots.

"Don't worry, I'll clean it up!"

He quickly stuffed the remaining cookware into the cupboard, then hobbled toward the opposite counter, favoring his left leg. Ryou clambered onto a chair pushed against the counter and reached up toward the cupboard suspended above the white counter-tiles. However, with his injured leg, he could not stand tall enough to grab the plates.

Bakura rounded the bar and walked across the small kitchen, decreasing the heat to low as he passed the stove. He approached the struggling boy, then reached over Ryou's head into the cupboard and extracted two plates.

Flashing a grateful smile, Ryou hopped down and returned to the ominous concoction in the pan. He stirred the liquid until it began to take a semi-solid form. Upon closer inspection, Bakura realized it was only half-cooked scrambled eggs, though how the child had altered their color he had no idea. Though, the assortion of seasonings beneath the spice cabinet may have been a clue.

Ryou took one plate from Bakura's hand and grabbed the two pieces of toast. Then, he glopped the runny eggs onto one piece of blackened toast and placed the other on top to form a gooey egg sandwich. Bakura held back a grimace.

The boy limped over to the square dining table and set the plate down next to a pre-placed fork and napkin. He then turned to Bakura with a big grin. When Bakura realized the food was meant for him, Bakura nearly choked. He would have protested, but the innocent pride radiating off the small boy overpowered his disgust.

With a weak smile, Bakura sat down in front of the steaming plate. Nervously, he picked up his fork and poked at the runny and discolored scrambled eggs. He looked back up at Ryou's expectant face. Why did the kid have to be so innocent?

Swallowing back another gag, Bakura scooped up a small bit of egg and raised the fork to his mouth. He paused, then, closing his eyes, he parted his lips and inserted the utensil into his mouth.

For a few seconds it sat there on his tongue, the taste dissolving into his taste buds. Bakura opened his eyes and pulled out the fork. As he slowly began to chew, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. It… wasn't so bad. His gaze flicked toward the kid, who's eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets with anticipation. He gave a small smile and nodded. The boy squealed with excitement. A small pang of guilt stabbed Bakura's chest.

He swallowed, then broke off a piece of the burnt toast and popped it in his mouth. This time, he forced back a grimace as he swallowed the rock-hard bread.

Bakura was about to take another bite when he noticed Ryou still standing beside the table, watching him intently.

"Where's your food?"

Ryou shook his head. "I made breakfast for you, Bakura-sama. I'm not hungry."

Bakura heard the strain him Ryou's voice as he uttered the last sentence and shook his head. Setting down his fork, he rose. "Sit."

Ryou frowned. "Demo-"

"Kid, sit down."

Nodding, the boy complied. Bakura crossed the small kitchen. He opened a cupboard and took out two glasses, setting them on the counter. Ryou watched silently as Bakura opened the refrigerator and grabbed a carton of orange juice.

"Want some?"

Smiling, Ryou nodded. Bakura filled both glasses, then returned the orange juice to its place. With the two cups, a fork, and another plate, Bakura walked back to the table. He handed a glass to Ryou, who hungrily guzzled the drink, then split the child's attempt at cooking between the two plates, allowing the majority to 'accidentally' spill onto Ryou's plate. The boy didn't mind, though, as he devoured the meal without giving a second thought to the taste.

A small smile crept onto Bakura's face, and he shook his head. Ryou was certainly a strange kid.

He sighed inwardly as he watched the thin child wolf down his breakfast in pure naivety. It would be hard to let him go.

--

Author's Notes: YIPPEE!!!!! I _finally_ updated. It has been exactly three months since I last posted. O.O" -bows- Gomen nasai, minna!!!! I am so very, very sorry. You all deserve huge rewards for being so patient with me. I promise it won't be as long before the next post. It is my goal to update at least once a month. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. More action will be seen in the next for those of you squirming to see Bakura do his stuff. Well, this is my Christmas gift to all of you. Merry Christmas~

Translator's Notes: 'Ja' means 'bye'; and 'demo' means 'but'.

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **It will be a while before I update, again. I have figured out a lot more for the plot of the story, and since the three chapters I've written thus far are too short for my tastes, I will be editting. I have also decided to wait to update until I've written at least two chapters past the chapter I'm posting. This will decrease the chances of me going back an changing a chapter I have already posted. Watch for announcements of updated previous chapters!

Take a quick minute to review? Inspires me to update faster! ;p (I know, I'm evil)


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